


One More Night

by stopcallingmeapollo (GayMarauders), wittlenell



Series: Who Has To Know? [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Slow Burn, Smooching, but like......with makeouts, discussions of nipples and dicks abound, like it's really just excessive at this point, please check TWs before reading chapters that have them!, shoutout to Maroon 5 who will thankfully never see this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayMarauders/pseuds/stopcallingmeapollo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wittlenell/pseuds/wittlenell
Summary: Battle of the Bands: The Epic SagaEnjolras and Grantaire learn to play nice as their charity event takes off.
Relationships: Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Courfeyrac & Grantaire (Les Misérables), Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Feuilly & Grantaire & Eponine & Montparnasse (Les Miserables), Grantaire & Eponine, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: Who Has To Know? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1666525
Comments: 10
Kudos: 37





	1. Baby There You Go Again

**Author's Note:**

> Some chapters of this part deal briefly with aspects of transphobia and addiction, so please be sure to check the notes (placed at the end of each chapter to avoid spoilers) if those things are difficult for you to read about! We'll include a brief summary of the chapter in the notes for those who would like to skip it altogether but continue reading the series.

“So, when do I get Grantaire back?”

Enjolras looked up from his desk to find Courfeyrac standing at his closet, looking through patterned shirts casually.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I’m just asking,” Courfeyrac shrugged, “I feel like every time I ask him to hang out, he’s busy. Which, that’s fine, he’s a Junior, but then for some reason,” He turned to look at Enjolras, eyebrows raised, “I always seem to find him with you somewhere on campus. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were sneaking around behind my back.”

“Wha--he’s in charge of the Battle of the Bands, you know that,” Enjolras replied smoothly. “We’re not ‘sneaking around.’ You’re welcome to help out, I just figured you were busy with all the social media responsibilities.”  _ That sounds plausible.  _ “And besides, why don’t you just get his schedule and figure out when you’re both free? I hear those art courses are at weird times, that’s probably the issue.”

Courfeyrac looked unconvinced. “I would think that  _ social media  _ would be asked to join with discussions over Battle of the Bands, seeing as it’s a highly social event,” He sneered, looking back at his closet, “But it’s fine.” 

It wasn’t.

He grabbed a black and white palm tree button down, throwing it over his white T-shirt, fidgeting with it in the mirror before he continued, “If you wanted to come out tonight, I’ll be going to the bowling alley.”

“Oh! I’ll have to check and see if I’m free,” Enjolras said. “--But I’m sure whatever I’m doing can wait til tomorrow,” he added quickly, seeing Courf’s face.

“Cool,” He answered curtly, “Invite whoever you want. It’s cheap tonight. I’ll meet you in the lobby at eight.” With that, he was gone.

Enjolras frowned, guilt bubbling in his stomach. He pulled out his phone and quickly sent off a text.

**Enjolras:** Courf is about to ask you to go bowling. You need to do it.

**Grantaire:** ???????

**Grantaire:** Like I will but why do i need to

**Enjolras:** He thinks we’re sneaking around behind his back or smth. And he misses you. A lot. I just think it would mean a lot to him to have you there.

**Grantaire:** oh shit lol

**Grantaire:** yeah totally. 

**Grantaire:** are you going????

**Enjolras:** Of course! He’s kind of upset, I don’t want him to think I don’t want to hang out with him. I’ve just been busy.

**Grantaire:** hahahahaha 

**Grantaire:** “”””busy”””” ;))

**Enjolras:** We’re working on two different fundraisers at once, plus I’m taking maximum credits this semester. I’m busy.

**Grantaire:** interesting how you find time to get ur daily work outs

**Grantaire:** its me

**Grantaire:** im the workout cachow

**Enjolras:** I have to meet up with you, otherwise I wouldn’t get any updates on the Battle of the Bands.

**Enjolras:** I’m going to block you.

**Grantaire:** nooooo

**Grantaire:** okay i gotta go im trying to draw a naked lady in charcoal

**Grantaire:** see u at bowling Leslie Knope

**Enjolras:** Mhmm.


	2. We Start Keeping Score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In true E and R fashion, bowling gets a bit out of hand.
> 
> TW and summary (with spoilers) in End Notes.

The bowling alley was a few blocks away, through the heart of the “Gayborhood,” and a cacophony of dance remixes spilled out into the night air through the open doors of various clubs as Enjolras walked. Eventually a large neon sign alerted him that he had found the place, and he entered the large, dark space.

Inside were all the usual staples of a bowling alley: shoe rental, 2000s pop, snack bar, claw machines, a worryingly unidentifiable odor, and Courfeyrac, clad in bright shorts and a Hawaiian shirt. He bounced over to Enjolras as soon as he saw him walk in.

“You came!”

“Of course,” Enjolras said, hugging him tightly.

“Joly, Boss, and Chetta are already here. We ordered a couple pounds of fries--”

“--a couple  _ pounds?” _

“They sell them by the pound here! Isn’t it great? Anyway, we ordered a couple pounds of fries, some beers and a lemonade for the baby. Just waiting on a couple more people and we can get started!”

“You’re underage too, Courf,” Enjolras said, rolling his eyes at the dig.

“Yeah, but I’m not such a baby that I don’t have a fake,” he replied. He slung an arm over Enjolras’s shoulders, guiding him toward the lane where Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta awaited. Enjolras took a seat on the open bench opposite them, exchanging pleasantries as they waited.

Eventually, Grantaire and Bahorel strode in, glued at the hip per usual. They were deep in conversation, although it sounded like it was a debate on the subject of robots, specifically roombas, gaining sentience. Of course, the only thing that tore away Grantaire's attention was Courfeyrac.

"Love!" He greeted, approaching the boy in question. He wrapped his arms around him, swaying side to side with him so he couldn't escape. "You better have gotten me those fries."

"Who would I be if I hadn't?" Courfeyrac chirped.

Enjolras stayed seated, nodding at Bahorel and studiously ignoring Grantaire. Bahorel took the chair at the head of the table between the two benches, immediately turning to Joly to get his opinion on the roomba debate, and Grantaire and Courfeyrac took a moment to break away from each other and join the group. 

Grantaire took a seat next to Enjolras, starting to switch into bowling shoes. He seemed to ignore Enjolras completely, instead engaging Courfeyrac, "So who's on which side?"

"Well,  _ those _ three are definitely together," He gestured to the throuple behind him, "I definitely want to challenge you to a fight."

"Alright, lovebirds on the left, cool gang and blondie on the right," Grantaire said with a nod. He got up and went to the machine, inputting nicknames in place of real names  _ because why else do people go bowling? _

**DADDY**

**ZADDY**

**BADDY**

**BLONDIE**

Enjolras rolled his eyes as Courf and Baz laughed at the names. Before he could protest, though, the game was starting. He settled for a  _ really?  _ look at Grantaire, who only smirked in response.

"Go Daddy," Bahorel teased Grantaire, "Show us how it's done."

Grantaire shrugged off his jacket, dropping it in Bahorel's lap before walking to grab a ball. He pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, hoisting it up and looking it over. He was definitely just putting on a show, taking his sweet time to bowl.

"Scared?" Courfeyrac called out, "Don't want to embarrass yourself?"

And just like that, he took his three steps towards the lane, buckling one knee, and rolled the ball by flicking his wrist backwards rather than forward.

A strike.

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, impressed in spite of himself. Courf and Bahorel each did respectably, and finally it was Enjolras's turn. He picked up a ball, took a deep breath, and lined up the shot. Just as he swung his arm back, he heard Grantaire's voice from behind him.

"Don't miss, Blondie."

The ball arced too high, hitting the alley hard and curving dramatically to the left. Two pins went down, a third wobbling but staying upright. Enjolras turned around to find Grantaire watching him, eyebrow quirked. Enjolras rolled his eyes and grabbed another ball, throwing it hard. 

"Damn! Six pins!" Joly exclaimed.

Enjolras crossed his arms, looking pointedly at Grantaire as he took his seat.

"A solid eight, whatever will I do?" Grantaire teased. He tossed his head back, touching his hand to his forehead, "He's catching up so fast."

"Just roll," Courfeyrac snorted.

"Alright, whatever," Grantaire laughed, going back for his second frame. 

The games and the jokes continued until the fries and drinks arrived, stopping them all just after the sixth frame.

They sat around the table just above the alley and Grantaire drank his beer casually, grabbing for the fries, looking just as bored and along for the ride as always.

"Are you quiet because you're getting your ass kicked by a freshman?" Bahorel bumped against his shoulder with a laugh, causing Grantaire to spill just a couple drops onto the table.

"I can turn it around," He shrugged, wiping down the spill with a garlic fry before popping it into his mouth.

It was 41 against 74. Somehow "turning it around" didn't seem likely.

"Whatever stops the tears," Enjolras quipped, grabbing a fry from the basket in front of Grantaire.

"Alright. Tell ya what," Grantaire sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, "Lets make a bet."

"...What kind of bet?" Enjolras said slowly.

"The kind where if you win, I officially join your stupid club," He said. He looked Enjolras up and down then smirked, "If I win, you bring everybody sandwiches to the next meeting. Including me."

Enjolras paused, considering.  _ I need more members...what're the chances he can possibly catch up, anyway? _

"Deal." He stuck his hand out across the table, looking straight into Grantaire's eyes.

Grantaire downed the rest of his beer, licked his hand dramatically, then grabbed Enjolras' hand before he could pull back. Enjolras shuddered, but completed the shake. They lingered for a split second before releasing each other, and he immediately grabbed a napkin to wipe his hand, standing.

"Shall we?"

"Game on, blondie."

And so they played. They played and bantered and fought and teased, Grantaire getting drunker as the night went on. Every time Enjolras finished a round, he would chug his beer, as if making a statement.

The game came head to head, with everyone placing their bets on who would win. Grantaire sat beside Bahorel, hands together in a praying gesture, head down. Bahorel had shed his layers and was down to a plain white t-shirt that he had definitely been sweating in. Courfeyrac was standing on furniture, unable to contain himself.

With a final ball, the scoreboard ticked to its final score.

**DADDY 126**

**ZADDY 200**

**BADDY 237**

**BLONDIE 127**

Enjolras couldn’t fight back his smile as he read the scores. He turned to Grantaire, still hopelessly attempting to hide his glee at having defeated someone so infuriatingly cocky. 

“I believe you owe me a student ID number.”

“Ooooooh!” Joly, Bossuet, and Bahorel chorused, immediately chiming in to give Grantaire as much shit as possible.

“416904,” Grantaire rattled off without lifting his head. 

Courfeyrac bit his lip, glancing towards Enjolras. He furrowed his brow, looking back to Grantaire. 

“R, do you need a place to stay tonight?”

“I can drive.”

“No, you can't.”

Enjolras frowned, watching the interaction. Grantaire was clearly further gone than he’d realized in the heat of the moment.

“A--are you ok?” he asked, his voice barely carrying over the noise. He felt a hand on his arm and turned to see Bossuet standing near him.

“He gets like this sometimes. He uh--when he hits a rough patch, sometimes he overdoes it a little. But he’s not the kind of person to take help, you know, so…” he gestured at the ongoing argument between Courf and Grantaire. 

“Does he--is there anything I can do?” Enjolras asked quietly.

“Just make sure he knows he can come to you if he wants to. If you’re willing to be there, that is.”

“Right,” he replied, still watching the two men.

“I can go,” Grantaire was arguing.

“R, that's not what I mean and you know it,” Courfeyrac crossed his arms.

“I don't want to ruin your perfect 200, love, I can go home.”

“You aren't ruining anything.”

“Where are my keys?” He asked loudly, “One of you took my keys!”

Musichetta sat beside Grantaire, touching his arm gently, “Hey, R.”

He jumped, looking at her with wide eyes, “Chetta.”

“I'm going to need you to come home with one of us, otherwise I'm calling Eponine.”

“Don't you dare, she thinks I'm getting better.”

“You are getting better, this doesn't change that,” She began to rub his arm soothingly, “But you can't drive home tonight.” She glanced towards Enjolras, “And you have to set an example for the eighteen year olds around. Right?”

He paused for a long time before dropping his head into his hands, “Right.”

Enjolras felt something twist in his chest as he watched Grantaire.  _ How did I not know?  _ He couldn’t help but think back through all the times spent with Grantaire and their friends--how often a bottle or a glass or a shot had been in his hand--although never like this. Never with this darkness hanging over him, almost visible, clouding his usually clear eyes. Enjolras, who always knew what to say, was once again at a loss for words because of this man. He stepped back, watching as Musichetta quietly took Grantaire’s car keys from Bahorel and handed her own to Joly. She guided Grantaire out, and Joly and Bossuet followed.

There was heavy moment of silence between Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Bahorel before Bahorel turned to the younger men and forced a smile, “I can help you two get back to the dorms. And I can foot the bill for the whole game.”

“Baz, you don't--”

“Let me.”

Courfeyrac shoved his hands into his pockets, not willing to fight. He followed Bahorel out of the building, Enjolras in tow, and back to the dorms by way of bus.

“Courf, don't take it so hard,” Bahorel murmured once they were close to the school.

“I shouldn’t have bought those drinks,” Courfeyrac shook his head.

“He's--” Bahorel stopped and sighed, “He's been doing better… It's fine. Okay?”

“...Okay.”

“Get some sleep. Both of you,” He turned his eyes onto Enjolras.

“We will. Thanks for getting us home,” Enjolras said quickly. “And uh--if you see him, tell Grantaire...uh, nevermind. Have a good night, Baz.”

He and Courfeyrac exited the bus together, standing in silence as they rode the elevator up to their room.

Courfeyrac didn't say another word, he went straight into pajamas and into bed, rolling over to face the wall. He didn't want to deal with this any longer than he had to, and he didn't want to have to think about how his roommate might react to his best friend doing…  _ that _ seemingly over nothing. It wasn't that he lost the bet, Courfeyrac knew that, at least not entirely. It was just…hard. To stop. It was hard for Grantaire. It was hard, and it broke Courfeyrac's heart every time and he didn't want to face Enjolras like that.

So he simply went to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Alcoholism/addiction
> 
> Summary: Enjolras and Grantaire become a bit too invested in their bowling competition, and Grantaire drinks throughout the game. They make a bet: if Enjolras loses, he brings sandwiches for everyone to the next meeting, and if R loses, he officially signs up for the club. Enjolras wins, and Grantaire has to be taken home by his friends, who have taken his keys.
> 
> Notes:  
> Thanks for sticking around for Part 2! We'll be posting 6 more chapters over the course of about 10 days, so keep an eye out for that, and stay healthy.  
> Thanks for all your support!  
> ~J & James


	3. Crawling Back to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, sandwiches, and Steven

_ Hi Enjolras, _ _   
_ _ I’m so glad your membership is growing--it seems like your group is doing some important work. Grantaire already asked me to add him to your official members a few days ago, but thank you for passing along his information anyway. _ _   
_ _ Let me know if there’s anything else you need from the Student Life department. _ _   
_ _ Regards, _ _   
_ _ Maria Simplice _ __   
_ She/Her _ _   
_ __ Student Life Coordinator

Enjolras frowned, trying to parse out what the email he’d just received meant. It was 7:40 am, and the notification from the message had woken him.  _ He already asked…?  _ The wheels in his head turned slowly.  _ But we were playing for his membership last night. How could he... _ oh _. Oh, Grantaire…  _ Grantaire had been playing with him, literally. He was always going to give him what he wanted. Enjolras bit his lip, trying not to replay the night before in his mind, then opened a browser and started typing.

Soon enough, Courfeyrac's alarm went off and the two slowly began their day. Once he had gotten dressed, Courfeyrac stopped by the door and turned toward Enjolras. 

“Have you… heard from him?” He asked quietly.

“No,” he replied. He almost mentioned the email, but something held him back. It was odd, and probably ridiculous, but it felt like something just for him. The fact that Grantaire had done this for him had made him soften, if only for a moment, and he had a selfish urge to keep that softness to himself.

“Me neither,” He sighed, “See you at the meeting.”

There was something off the whole day. There was no sign of Grantaire anywhere, no one heard anything, and if it weren't for Musichetta promising that he was alive and well, he could've been assumed dead. Enjolras was convinced the other man wouldn’t appear when ten minutes of the meeting had gone by with no sign of him. Finally he gave up waiting, pulling two large bags full of assorted sandwiches out from under the table and instructing Combeferre to distribute them as he set up his computer.

“Sandwiches?” Courfeyrac asked, eyeing the bags.

Before Enjolras could respond, the door creaked open and in walked Grantaire. He had sunglasses, a beanie, and a large grey sweater on. He slowly took his backpack off, setting it on the nearest table and pulling out a folder. The whole while, he didn't say a word.

Enjolras started when he saw him, his heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, he called out across the room.

“Hey Grantaire--catch.” He picked up a sandwich and tossed it at the taller man.

Grantaire slowly turned, not realizing what was happening and getting caught off-guard when suddenly a sandwich was thrown at his face. He scrambled to grab it before it fell. He slowly unwrapped it before looking up, confused.

“A sandwich?” He asked, voice gravelly with disuse. Enjolras gazed at him for a moment.

“You win.” He turned away quickly, starting the slideshow and launching into his prepared speech for the day.

Grantaire stared at him before sitting on the floor, cross-legged with his sandwich. He slowly ate it through the presentation, not realizing that Courfeyrac had come to his side, sitting with him in silence. Courfeyrac gingerly took the folder off of Grantaire's lap and began flipping through it as Enjolras spoke. As soon as the assembled students separated out into their respective groups, Courf motioned Enjolras over.

“Enj, look at these! Did you spend all day on this, R?” He asked excitedly.

Grantaire nodded, clearing his throat before speaking, “I couldn't, ah, get out of bed… Chetta brought me some paper so I wouldn't get stir crazy. I don't know, I don't know if you can use them, but there they are.”

Enjolras took the folder, flipping through. By the time he reached the last design, he was beaming.

“This is perfect.”

“You can take them and photocopy them or whatever,” He folded up his trash, “I also contacted Maria about joining this morning so you don't have to worry about that.”

“This morning,” Enjolras echoed pointedly. “Right. Very early this morning. Very, very early. Practically days ago.”

Grantaire stopped breathing for a moment.

“Practically, yeah?”

He stood, tossing his trash in the bin and zipping up his backpack. He avoided looking in Enjolras' direction as he gathered his things.

“If that's all you have to say to me, I'll be heading home now, I need to get my car.”

“Wait!” Enjolras followed him out, leaving a perplexed Courfeyrac behind. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” He asked curtly, not stopping.

“Do we really have to play this game?” Enjolras asked.

“That's not an answer, what are you talking about?” Grantaire asked, finally stopping and turning on Enjolras. He took his glasses off and  _ boy _ , did he look rough. “Why did I drink within an inch of my life? Why did I make a stupid bet I knew I was going to lose? Why did I spend all day hiding in my room, pretending I was here so my roommate wouldn't know I was hungover? Tell me, what exactly are you asking about?”

Enjolras stared at him as he ranted, blood rushing in his ears as Grantaire’s voice rose in volume.

“Maria emailed me. I know what you did.” He paused for a second before forging on. “And just for the record, I don’t care about any of that. I mean, I don’t--not care. I care. About you. But. You’re not stupid.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing right now, I’m sorry. I’ll go. Thank you for the designs, they’re lovely.”

There was a long pause before Grantaire spoke again, “Are you embarrassed?”

Enjolras turned back to Grantaire.

“Why would I be embarrassed?”  _ Why would anyone be embarrassed about you?  _ “I mean, we’re just hooking up right. It’s college. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he added quickly.  _ Are you embarrassed because you’ve been making out with a freshman who won’t even admit he never kissed anyone else?  _ “Are you?”

“I have a lot of things to be embarrassed about, hookups aren't one of them.”

“Right. Well, good.” Enjolras felt something suspiciously like disappointment, although he didn’t know why. “I’ll uh. See you next week. Or--whenever, I guess.”

“Do you want to meet my cat?” Grantaire blurted out before Enjolras could leave.

“You have a cat?” Enjolras said dumbly.

“Her name is Steven, I thought she was a boy when I adopted her," He said, "You should… meet her.”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, sure. Let me just grab my stuff and wrap up the meeting. Where is your place?” Enjolras asked, turning back toward the cafe.

“I'll text you-- I need your number to do that, I don't know if I want to give you my address over Facebook messenger, that shit's insecure as fuck," At this point he was clearly just speaking stream of consciousness as he slipped his sunglasses back over his eyes, “My number is 485--”

“Woah, woah, hang on,” Enjolras exclaimed. “Here, put it in for me.” He pulled his phone from his back pocket, pulling up a new contact and holding it out to Grantaire.

Grantaire took the phone and put in his phone number very slowly. When he handed it back, he was already starting to walk backwards and away from campus.

“Alright. Well. Text me. Whenever really. I'm going to be there. Probably.” With that, Grantaire pivoted and stalked off of campus.

Enjolras watched him go, not returning to the cafe until he was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Our entire state is on lockdown now, so there'll be plenty more for you soon.  
> As always, comments and kudos are infinitely appreciated - we love to know our work is reaching someone out there!  
> Be well!  
> J & James


	4. Cross My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras discovers Parks & Rec

Enjolras arrived at Grantaire's apartment about an hour later, knocking hesitantly at the door. As he waited, he took in the chaotic atmosphere of the place: a Halloween welcome mat, assortment of plants in various stages of decay, and a clearly year-old Christmas wreath. He checked his phone and knocked again, wondering if he had found the right address.

Suddenly, the door jerked open. Grantaire stood in the same sweater, now without beanie or sunglasses. He looked out of breath, and his living room looked unnaturally clean considering it was  _ his _ apartment. 

“You found it,” He said.

“Apparently,” Enjolras said, standing stiffly and wrapping his fingers around his backpack straps.

“You can… come in,” He stepped aside, allowing the boy to step over the threshold. He shut the door behind him, “Yeah, so like this is the living room.”

It was decent sized, with a TV, couch, large papasan chair, and a bookcase furnishing the room. Around the walls were… nature portraits? Things Grantaire had painted maybe? Nothing had a signature on it a few of them looked too fresh to be bought.

Suddenly, a small mew came from the couch. From the middle of a pile of blankets, a fluffy cat sat up.

“Steven!” Grantaire beamed.

Enjolras glanced around with interest, looking to Grantaire for permission before kneeling to greet Steven.

“Hi Steven!” He kneeled and offered the cat a hand, cooing delightedly when she rubbed her chin against him.

“Want to know a secret?” Grantaire asked as he ran his hand all the way down Steven's back and up her tail, “I found her in a dumpster.”

Enjolras laughed.

“Is that where they found you, too?”

“Yeah, feasting on discarded cheese puffs, actually,” He said.

At that moment, Steven had had enough and bit at Grantaire's hand.

“Hey, you naughty bastard,” he scolded, shoving her off the couch.

Enjolras watched as she ran off. He stayed turned around for a moment before turning back to Grantaire, unsure of how to proceed.

“So I have… video games,” He started, rubbing the back of his neck, “Or Netflix or Hulu. I, uh… it's up to you.”

“Netflix sounds good!” 

“Cool! Cool. Great,” Grantaire walked down the short hall, opening a door before gesturing for Enjolas to follow.

The room was a dark blue color, with fairy lights haphazardly hanging from the ceiling and art of his friends on the wall. There was also, in true Grantaire fashion, a couple of scattered beer bottles. Enjolras took off his backpack and gently set it by the door, then waited to see what Grantaire would do next. There was only one chair in the room, by the desk, but something about sitting on a bed next to Grantaire seemed...wrong.  _ Intimate _ , almost.  _ We've been making out for months, and this is the line?  _ Enjolras scoffed at himself internally.

Grantaire sat on the bed with his laptop before looking at Enjolras. He patted the pillow next to him expectantly. Enjolras made his way across the room and gingerly took a seat, taking off his shoes before drawing his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around his legs.

Grantaire gently grabbed Enjolras' arms, removing them from his legs before pressing on his knees, straightening them out. He pulled Enjolras' leg over his own, cuddling against him, and set the laptop down on their mess of tangled limbs.

“What do you like to watch?”

“Oh, I dunno,” Enjolras said, surprised. “Ferre and I have been watching a lot of Star Trek lately. And there's Queer Eye...the OA is good, but it's a bit of a commitment I guess…”

“Have you finished all of Parks and Rec?”

“Parks and Rec?” Enjolras asked blankly.

“Oh my god, blondie,” He gawked, “You haven't seen Parks and Rec?”

“Is that the one with the guy who became a superhero? Chris something?” Enjolras asked. “I think Joly has mentioned it, but I haven't seen it. Is it good?”

“You  _ are  _ Leslie Knope!” Grantaire batted at Enjolras' shoulder, “We're watching it.”

“Ok,” Enjolras said blithely. “...Is that why you keep calling me Leslie?”

“Yes!” He said incredulously, reaching down to type in the name and start the series. He settled against Enjolras as the pilot began to play, resting his cheek atop the blonde's head. Enjolras shivered as dark curls brushed against his neck, then let himself relax into the other man. 

It took them over three hours, but they managed to watch the first four episodes. The longer they watched, the more comfortable he became, offering running commentary on the real-life politics behind the show, and Grantaire paused for every rant.

“Oh oh! Wait! This is a real thing, I actually organized a letter writing campaign about it in high school…” Enjolras cut himself off. “I'm sorry, I'll stop. Courf won't even watch movies with me anymore because of this,” he said sheepishly.

“No, no, it's fine,” Grantaire laughed, gently running his fingers along Enjolras' arm, “It's… endearing.”

Enjolras felt the hair on his arm stand on end, suppressing a shiver at the slight touch.

“Sure.”

“What, don’t believe me?” He teased, giving Enjolras a squeeze, “This is my house, I make the rules.”

“Of course,” Enjolras said, rolling his eyes.

Grantaire laughed again and pressed a kiss to the top of his head before resting his cheek again. His fingers danced on Enjolras’ skin, but his mind was screaming nonstop over the casual affection that had slipped out.  _ That’s gay, that’s gay, that’s gay, that’s gay… _

Enjolras tensed a bit at the physical contact, all of his awareness suddenly rushing to the top of his head and his arm, where Grantaire’s touch seemed to be dangling the possibility of more just out of his reach.

As the next episode started to buffer, Grantaire pulled his hand up to Enjolras’ hair, carding his fingers through it and massaging his scalp. Enjolras leaned into his touch, releasing a low, satisfied hum as he closed his eyes for a moment. He cautiously curled into Grantaire’s body, bringing his hand up to rest on his chest and holding his breath as Grantaire moved the laptop away and gently stroked his cheek. Slowly, Grantaire’s hand began to wander, brushing across his collarbone and down his bicep, down to his thigh where he started to massage, rubbing circles with his thumb. Enjolras sighed. 

Suddenly it was too much. Enjolras shifted, steadying himself with a hand on Grantaire’s chest as he straddled him. He sat there frozen, his forehead pressed to Grantaire’s, for what felt like forever.

“Do it.”

He surged forward, pressing his lips to Grantaire’s fiercely. It had been weeks since their last moment alone, and he poured his frustration into the kiss, biting his lip hard. Grantaire sat up into it, pressing their bodies together. He held a hand to the small of his back, his other rubbing up and down the boy’s thigh, moving back to his ass and squeezing hard. Finally, he went up along the blonde’s body, his hand landing right in the middle of his chest. The two separated for air, breathing hard for a moment. Enjolras stared at Grantaire, then pulled back further, suddenly reaching back and pulling his shirt over his head. Before Grantaire could react, he pulled the other man’s hand back to his now-bare chest, leaned in, and kissed him again, sliding his tongue against Grantaire’s. After a moment, Grantaire fell back against the pillows, and Enjolras slid his hands under his sweater to brace himself against his chest, his hips rolling over and over.

Suddenly, a ball of fluff came trotting between them. Paws pressed hard into Grantaire’s stomach and a soft head bopped against Enjolras’ bare stomach. Steven purred loudly, sounding like a truck engine. The two men froze.

“ _ Oh my god _ ,” Enjolras gasped. “Oh my god, I can’t--oh my god.” He carefully rolled off of Grantaire, shaking with laughter. 

“Steven!” Grantaire groaned, but Steven was having none of his reprimanding and instead rubbed against his face, laying down across his chest and continuing to purr. “You have  _ got  _ to be kidding…”

“It’s alright,” Enjolras said glibly. He turned to Steven. “It’s perfectly understandable, really. I’m very sorry for taking his lap from you, Miss Steven.”

Steven meowed in his face in response.

“Of course,” he replied, straight-faced. “We have an understanding,” he informed Grantaire.

“What am I, free real estate?” Grantaire asked incredulously, “I never signed any paperwork.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Enjolras reached for his shirt, pulling it back on quickly.

“Where is Steven?” A voice called loudly from the other room, “You better not be hiding poop, you bastard!”

“ _ Eponine, _ ” Grantaire whispered.

Suddenly, the tall goth bassist from months ago came bursting through the bedroom door. She had on boots that made her even taller - which frankly should’ve been illegal - and her hair was braided back to reveal dark makeup,  _ immaculately  _ applied _. _

“Steven,” She said with a nod, not even acknowledging Enjolras.

Steven, once again, meowed in response.

“I should probably get going,” Enjolras said, standing.

“I don’t bite,” Eponine said, coming over to the bed. She sat down, holding out her hand to Steven, “I could, but I won’t.”

“Enjolras, this is my roommate,” Grantaire gestured, “And bassist.”

“Hi,” he said, holding out his hand. “I saw you play at a party a while back, you were great!”

“Oh, thank you,” She held a hand to her chest, looking to Grantaire, “Why can’t you love me like blondie over here?”

“I tell you you’re great all the time!” Grantaire gaped at her.

“Not often enough,” She said simply. She looked back to Enjolras, “So like… Where did you come from?”

“Uh...the University, I guess?” Enjolras said. “I was just here watching Parks and Rec with Grantaire, but I’ve got homework due tomorrow so I should really be going, I uh--didn’t plan on being here so long.” He pulled on his shoes hurriedly, hopping over to his backpack and swinging it onto his shoulder.

Grantaire watched him with something behind his eyes that no one could name. He didn’t move to stop him, simply watched from his spot in bed, looking as if he’d forgotten Eponine entirely.

“Well, you’re welcome back whenever,” Eponine said, scooping Steven into her arms, “Grantaire needs friends that aren’t Bahorel and Courfeyrac.”

“I don’t know, I think those two count as at least ten people,” Enjolras quipped. “It was great meeting you, Eponine. I’ll see you soon, Grantaire.” He turned to look at him for a moment, then turned away, slipping past Eponine.

“Y-- yeah!” Grantaire called after a moment, “See you-- soon…”

Eponine eyed her roommate for a moment, waiting until the front door closed before she set Steven down outside of the room and shut the door. She sat down beside him, closed his laptop, and stared towards the closet door.

“I know you were home all day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a couple hours late! We're hard at work on the Les Mis Big Bang and Fandom Census (which you can find at thelesmisbigbang.tumblr.com ;) )  
> Enjoy, and stay safe!  
> ~J & James


	5. My Body Keeps on Telling You Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Boys exchange some unfortunate messages with their respective confidantes.

**Enjolras:** Hey you’re a doctor

**Enjolras:** I have a medical question

**Enjolras:** Please help

**Combeferre:** For the last time, I’m a pre-med student. Not a doctor. What you do need?

**Enjolras:** It’s about my chest

**Combeferre:** Is something wrong?

**Enjolras:** No? I don’t think?

**Enjolras:** A weird thing happened today and I feel like it would be weird to call my surgeon about it a year later when I’m not infected or anything

**Enjolras:** It just seemed weird and I wanted to know if it was weird

**Enjolras:** I just said “weird” a lot sorry

**Combeferre:** Alright, what is your concern?

**Enjolras:** Is it normal to have…*that kind* of sensation...come back kind of suddenly? Like without any warning? Like nipples responding to things other than heat, feeling touch differently on the skin, u know

**Enjolras:** I’m sorry this is weird you don’t have to give me medical advice I’ll just keep trying google

**Combeferre:** ...Are you asking me if it’s normal to regain sexual stimulation?

**Enjolras:** I guess, yeah

**Enjolras:** This is weird

**Combeferre:** Sensation in the chest region is going to come back slowly, and it’s not uncommon to suddenly begin feeling things again after a year or more has passed. If you had gotten a tattoo recently, or did some kind of acupuncture, it could’ve been jumpstarted.

**Combeferre:** I’m assuming neither of those happened, though. 

**Combeferre:** Dare I ask how you found out?

**Enjolras:** Ok so it’s not that weird

**Enjolras:** Thanks for the advice, have a good day~

**Combeferre:** Enjolras.

Enjolras set down his phone on his desk, only to pick it up again when it buzzed immediately.

**Joly:** HAVE YOU BEEN GETTING DOWN???

He flushed.  _ I forgot they have class together right now… _

**Enjolras:** Isn’t there something about Doctor-Patient confidentiality?

**Joly:** I am doctor, thank you, who have you been fucking

**Enjolras:** I haven’t fucked anyone. I’m just getting some important post-top surgery information. Aren’t you in class rn? Pay attention!

**Joly:** I’ve never paid attention a day in my goddamn life, why are your nipples getting fondled

**Joly:** Is it Grantaire lol

Enjolras’s heart stopped for a moment.  _ He’s joking. He’s got to be joking. Right? _

**Enjolras:** Uh huh. Definitely

**Enjolras:** Tell Ferre I need help with my shot tonight pls

**Joly:** Ohohho I’ll be telling Ferre something ;))

**Joly:** love you

**Enjolras:** ...love you

He pushed his phone away and took a deep breath, remembering the incredible sensation of Grantaire’s hand on his long-numb chest. The warmth, the pressure, the way he could feel his callouses against his skin...After the procedure he’d never been sure of how much he would be able to feel again; a chance he was willing to take, of course, but something that had saddened him nonetheless. But now...his hand brushed across his chest over his shirt, echoing Grantaire’s motion, and he sighed. If he didn’t know any better it would seem as though Grantaire had magically unlocked a set of feelings he had never experienced before.  _ But this isn’t some cheesy romance novel, and that’s not how it works. I just didn’t notice I was getting sensation back until he--still, it was sort of...cinematic. _

Before he could meditate too deeply on it, however, the clock hit 3:30 and his alarm went off. He quickly gathered his things and headed out the door to class, all thoughts of strange and intimate moments banished by the cold January rain.

* * *

**Grantaire:** hey yall quick fucking question but uhhhh

**Grantaire:** am i boner worthy????

**Feuilly:** man i cant even express to you how much i am not awake enough for this conversation

**Montparnasse:** Are we talking like… “send a pic of my boner on Grindr” boner worthy or “i’d suck him off in a bar” boner worthy or “I’d pretend to be monogamous for him” boner worthy

**Montparnasse:** The answer is No regardless, jw

**Grantaire:** I’m talking like

**Grantaire:** We’re both drunk and it’s been a long night and we’re grinding to a remix of low by flo rida in our good year 2019 and oh no my wiener’s hard

**Eponine is typing…**

**Grantaire:** I’M TALKIN

**Grantaire:** YOU’RE NOT PROUD OF IT, BUT YOURE STILL HARD.

**Grantaire:** AT THE MI N I M U M 

**Eponine:** you’re very boner worthy [eggplant emoji]

**Montparnasse:** aren’t you a lesbian

**Feuilly:** please, guys, i’m begging u. just one normal conversation. this is the band groupchat for christs sake

**Grantaire:** fee you didn’t answer the question at least monty was honest

**Eponine:** i’d eat out a million girls and still have a boner for r you bastard

**Feuilly:** yeah like. if we made out id probly get hard. Y?

**Grantaire:** thank you

**Grantaire:** Has anyone ever like . . . . . .. not . . . given someone a boner while making out?????

**Grantaire:** Do people just Tuck on the daily? Is that weird? I thought drag queens did that. But everyday life is not a drag show. Why wuld they be tucked. Why arent they getting hard????

**Feuilly:** is there like...a Situation happening. why are we talking about this right now

**Montparnasse:** Have you ever tried tucking??? No one would willingly do that shit every day

**Grantaire:** yes i’ve tried tucking who tf do you think i am

**Grantaire:** THERE COULD BE a situation happening OR MAYBE i’m just curious

**Eponine:** is it steven

**Grantaire:** yes it’s steven

**Eponine:** Well she has high standards, don’t beat yourself up

**Feuilly:** i hate that im even participating in this conversation but. is it possible. That this person’s dick is just...very small

**Grantaire:** How Small Must It Be?? To Be Unfelt??? During Various Positions Worth of Grinding???

**Eponine:** wait are you actually hooking up with someone????

**Grantaire:** ANSWER THE QUESTION.

**Eponine:** I mean,,, pretty small. But before i came out i definitely met some Small guys lmao

**Montparnasse:** I wouldn’t know, I’ve never experienced a small dick

**Feuilly:** im leaving the band

**Grantaire:** you ARE a small dick

**Grantaire:** wait fee baby no :(( I need ur sick guitar skills

**Grantaire:** you were all wildly unhelpful I’m gonna go think about it some more

**Eponine:** for the record, Monty was 100% the small dick i encountered pre-lesbianism

Grantaire set his phone down, groaning into his hands. What was wrong with him? Why did it even matter if it was just a hookup? It’s not like Enjolras would keep crawling back to him forever, it’s not like they were like--

It didn’t matter. It was fine. He just had a small dick. Obviously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks for your patience as we battle some technical issues. Rest assured we will continue to update as close to on-schedule as possible - we have ten chapters completed and several more planned.  
> Be safe!  
> ~J & James


	6. Using My Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Battle of the Bands approaches, Grantaire and Enjolras begin working ~very closely~ to make sure the event goes smoothly.

Third quarter flew by and Grantaire was so buried under work that he had forgotten all about his brilliant  _ Battle of the Bands _ idea from the previous semester. Sure, it was mostly just to piss Enjolras off at that first meeting, but he had kind of meant it and even tried calling a few people-- he didn't expect anything to come of it, though.

_ Hi Grantaire, _ _   
_ _ I'm pleased to report that The Corinthe has offered their venue for the night of March 10th, just a few days into Spring Break. _ _   
_ _ I am also pleased to report that student life is willing to help pay half of the down payment for the rental! I'll forward you their information, just let them know if that date will work for all parties involved and you can work out the details from there. _ _   
_ _ I'm looking forward to it, _ _   
_ _ Maria Simplice _ _   
_ _ She/Her _ _   
_ _ Student Life Coordinator _

Grantaire read the email over a few times, processing what it said. He blinked, wiping his hands off on his paint splattered black jeans, miscalculating and wiping red all over his knee through the gaping hole over it. He barely even noticed, though, as he spun around on his stool and called his favorite blonde.

“Hey,” He said the moment the ringing stopped.

“Who is this?” Enjolras's voice was unusually deep, and he sounded as if he were frowning at Grantaire through the phone.

“R?” He raised an eyebrow, though he knew Enjolras couldn't see it, “Am I not saved into your phone?”

“I was asleep.” There was a pause, then Enjolras cleared his throat, voice moving up toward his usual light sound. “What's up?”

“I got an email from Maria,” He said absently, checking the clock on his phone and wincing, seeing that it was nearly three in the morning, “The Corinthe gave us a date that we can have the venue.”

“Oh! Awesome, one sec.” Enjolras grabbed his laptop from beside his bed, opening it and quickly loading a Google document. “Can you forward me the email? What day did she say? Were there any details we should be keeping in mind?” He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, typing quickly.

“Uh, yeah, hang on,” Grantaire clicked through his inbox, finding one from The Corinthe house manager hiding in his junk folder. He internally groaned, skimming it quickly, “Yeah, so, they gave us March 10th, all bands will need to do sound check during the day before the event, you're going to need to check in with the house manager because you're the official name on our club paperwork or whatever?”

“What's going on,” A voice murmured.

“Oh shit sorry, Grantaire just called me--I'll talk to you in the morning, ok?” Enjolras said. “We should meet for coffee before class, we have a lot to figure out before Spring Break.”

Grantaire bit his lip, listening to what had to have been Courfeyrac mumbling as he settled back into bed. He caught something along the lines of “Okay, I love him” but the rest was incoherent.

“Yeah, let's meet up,” Grantaire agreed after a beat.

“Great, eight at the cafe work for you? Oh, and Courf says he loves you,” Enjolras added, “And that he'll kill you if you wake him up again.”

Grantaire smiled, “I love him, I'd welcome that kind of death. Eight is fine.” He glanced at his painting, “Yeah, that's fine.”

* * *

Enjolras arrived at the cafe at 7:55, sliding into the coveted corner booth and setting out his laptop and notebook before crossing to the counter to order. There was one person ahead of him in line, and he quietly contemplated the pastry selection while he waited.

Suddenly behind him came the smell of cigarettes rolling in and a body was pressed against his back. 

“Are you a sweets in the morning kind of guy?” Grantaire asked, casual as ever.

“Sometimes,” Enjolras replied. “You?”

“I've been awake long enough that this doesn't count as morning,” He joked, “But yes. Sort of. Sweets and I are long cherished penpals.”

Enjolras chuckled, then stepped up to the register.

“I'll take a short hot cocoa and a plain croissant, please,” he said, pulling out his card before turning to Grantaire. “Anything for you?”

“Awh, sweetheart, are you paying for me?” Grantaire teased, “Is this a date?” He looked to the pastries then to the cashier, “A breakfast sandwich and a plain black coffee. Whatever size he's willing to buy.”

“Make it grande,” Enjolras said, “I have a feeling he needs it. And it's not a date, it's--a meeting. Consider this payment for your contributions to the club.” He paid and the two went to stand on the far end of the counter while the barista worked.

Grantaire leaned heavily on the counter, one hand stuck on Enjolras' hip. He looked an absolute mess, with paint covering him nearly head to toe. His messy curls were pulled back into a bun, showing off the dark circles under his eyes.

“You know me so well,” He chuckled.

“I would ask what you've been up all night doing, but it seems pretty obvious.” Enjolras looked up and down at Grantaire's outfit, avoiding his eyes.

“I have to finish some gallery pieces,” He shrugged, “I figured if I was meeting you so early, I could just work through the night.”

“You're gonna regret that.” Enjolras shook his head.

“Short hot chocolate and a grande black coffee!”

The two men grabbed their respective drinks and headed over to the table Enjolras had claimed, each starting his breakfast before engaging.

“So, as I was saying, we need to be there all day to get the bands all sound checked,” Grantaire said after taking a bite from his sandwich. He sat back in his seat, “I need to check with everyone I originally asked to confirm how many bands we'll have total, but I'd schedule out several hours for it.”

“Sounds good.” Enjolras scribbled something down before typing into a spreadsheet. “What else? Do we need any sort of equipment? Security? What does the venue take care of? How do we collect revenue?”

“So, in my experience…”

And so the meeting went. Grantaire gave all the information he had, experiences he had as a musician, his plans to cover things that hadn't been discussed between them and the venue, and together they wrote an email out for the house manager. When it was all said and done, they sat there chatting about their respective workloads at that point in the semester and Grantaire even gave Enjolras a little miniature flyer to invite him to his gallery when it opened. 

They finally parted ways, Grantaire heading home to sleep and Enjolras to class, and the next couple of weeks were spent in a frenzy as the  _ Battle of the Bands _ slowly approached.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be 2 chapters, but we figured we'd put them together instead of shortchanging y'all on wordcount ;)  
> Enjoy, and don't forget to check out the Les Mis Big Bang on May 5th! @thelesmisbigbang on Tumblr  
> ~J & James


End file.
